A special gift for Christmas
by OutlawPrincess2015
Summary: A/U-Regina doubts that Mr. Right is packed in Santa's sleigh this year.


"Seriously Zelena I don't mind taking Brett to see Santa, and as soon as I get a chance I'll take him. And you don't owe me anything." Regina was saying to her sister on the phone. Zelena was tied up at work and could not take her son Brett to see Santa for Christmas.

"I'm just sorry that I had to ask you this, but with Barry would much rather be here if he could. It's not his fault his firm sent him abroad. And you can protest all you like, little sister but I'm going to get you something. After all, you've no one but family to give them to. No husband, not even a boyfriend." Zelena said.

"Thank goodness," Regina put in a little grimly. "Men aren't exactly top of my popularity poll at the moment."

"I do wish you wouldn't generalize just because one man let you down. Most men are decent and caring. And as to a present, I own you." Zelena continued. " I don't know what I would have done without you these last few days." With Zelena pregnant with Barry and her's second child she didn't need to be working any more hours than she already was. "It's really good of you Regina, especially at this time of year, when you must be frantically busy."

"You don't owe me a thing." Regina was stubborn. "We're family, for heaven's sake. You'd do the same for me if heaven forbid I was ever in the same predicament."

"But aren't you a bit worried about leaving Ruby in charge of the boutique?" asked Zelena. "I mean, she's not you by any means."

Regina had first decided she wanted to run her own fashion shop when she was seventeen. Her experience had been gained from working in several of her father's clothing shops up and down the country. Three years ago, together with a friend, she had opened Regina's just off Oxford Street, renting a small property belonging to Goodbody's, one of the larger stores.

"Yes unfortunately, but I do know that Ruby is trying but it's been very hard on her this year with loosing both her mother and her boyfriend in that car accident that almost killed her as well." Regina said. "And I'm going to stay with you and Brett until Barry is able to come back home, hopefully before you have this baby."

"I just miss hearing his voice, but some of these sites are hundreds of miles off the beaten track." Zelena said.

"It's amazing how two sisters like us can be so different." Regina said.

"What do you mean?" Zelena asked.

"Well, it's not that I don't like children. You know how much I adore Brett, but marriage is something I've always relegated to the distant future." For when she had fulfilled other ambitions, such as travelling around the world, establishing herself in her chosen career.

"I thought you'd changed your mind when you met Daniel." Zelena said regretfully.

About eighteen months previously Daniel Taylor, a successful, attractive man with his own chain of men's clothing stores, had come into Regina's life, introduced by a mutual friend.

Daniel, pre-warned about Regina's determination to remain a free spirit, had played his cards carefully, approaching her with a business proposition in the first instance and then as their friendship grew implying that there would not only be a business partnership to look forward to but a lifelong partnership also.

Regina, once so reluctant to surrender her freedom, had been beguiled by his looks and his glib tongue. She began to dream and plan. But her plans had been rudely shattered. Just as she was on the verge of admitting and declaring her feelings for him, Daniel's true character had been revealed when suddenly, unexpectedly he was arrested for fraud. Not only was he found to be unscrupulous in his financial dealings, but she had discovered he had actually been living with another woman while still dating her.

Regina, caught with her defenses temporarily down, had been badly hurt, not only in her pride. Her heart too had been bruised. But once she had recovered her equilibrium her defenses, particularly her emotional ones, had been doubly reinforced. She had determined never to let any man deceive her again, in business or in a personal relationship.

"I don't know how you do it," Regina said suddenly. "Two pregnancies in three years, Barry away so much. How can you be so calm, so accepting?"

"Because I love children and I love Barry. If you love someone you'll put up with quite a bit. Maybe you'll find that out one day. And I know Barry will phone the moment he get an opportunity to." Zelena said. "I'd love to see you as happy as I am, Regina. I do wish you'd fall in love with someone."

"I did once, remember?" Regina's tone was bitter. "Or thought I had. I had a lucky escape there. Apart from anything else, I could have lost my business."

"Yes, it is a great pity that happened. But not all men are alike. And besides, I'm not talking about a business partnership, the two things don't necessary have to be combined. I'm talking about love. You don't know what you're missing. Maybe," Zelena said jokingly, "you should put something like that top of you 'wants' list when you write to Santa, a man."

"A man? For Christmas?" Regina snorted derisively. "No thank you. I've never been in any rush to be tied down, and after Daniel...But you old married women are just the same, can't wait to see everyone else in the same boat."

"Less of the 'old', if you please. I'm only two years older than you. Anyway, it won't be easy to pair you off. Any man you married would have to be different from the usual run of men. He would have to be very tolerant, especially if you insist on continuing your career after marriage. And he'll need to be strong too, to match your tough streak." Zelena said.

"Tough?" Regina exclaimed humorously. It was the last way she would have described herself, but then not even to Zelena had she ever revealed the depths of her vulnerability, a vulnerability she now sought to hide beneath a defensive shell. "You make me sound like something off a butcher's slab, or one of those soap opera heroines."

Zelena chuckled. "One might be forgiven for agreeing with the last bit, the career woman image you project. I've always felt sorry for the strings of men who pant after you. But I didn't say you were tough through and through. You've got your soft side too, or you wouldn't be doing this today for my son. And you're good with kids. You ought to have some of you own before you're too-"

"Talking of children..." Regina said as she was trying to end this endless lecture from Zelena. "I'm free now so I'm going to go pick Brett up from school early and take him to see Santa."

"Perfect timing if I do say so." Zelena said knowing Regina had made that up. "Okay but remember you'll have your hands quite full enough with Brett. He can be a little witch at times."

"Wonder where he got that from?" Regina asked as she said goodbye to her sister and told Ruby to watch the store while she went to get Brett.

"Is my daddy coming back soon?" her nephew wanted to know as she buttoned him into his raincoat.

Regina bit her lip, uncertain how to reply. She wanted to reassure the anxious little boy, banish that worried look in his eyes. The concept of time was so hard for young children to understand. But if she told him 'yes' and Barry didn't materialize for several more weeks..Such a pit Zelena, like there mother had married a man whose work took him away so much.

On the other hand, to be absolutely fair to her brother-in-law, that work had provided Zelena with a lovely home and property wasn't cheap. Regina often wished she could afford to live in a delightful old village with its tortuous streets and its picturesque houses with mixed grand and the spacious with cottages some of them covetably pretty.

"Will he, Aunt Regina?" Brett persisted.

"I hope so," seemed to be a safe answer for the time being.

It was a wet murky Friday afternoon, more like January than December. But the large stores along busy Oxford Street were brightly lit and the street itself was glittering with illuminations. Garish pink clowns on tightropes juggling flashing balls vied for attention with rotund Santas and red nosed reindeer. To attempt to hurry through the turgidly moving crowds drifting in and out of the stores was to court frustration.

On the train in from Hampstead, four year old Brett, his worries forgotten, had behaved angelically. But now, as they neared their destination, he was getting more and more excited, dragging at Regina's hand.

Regina would have liked to pop round the corner to reassure herself that all was well at the boutique, but her nephew was getting impatient. "Is this the shop?" he asked every few yards.

At last, "Here we are," she said thankfully.

The warmth and color of the store reached out to envelop them as they pushed through the heavy doors. With an indulgent smile, Regina watched her small nephew's face as he gazed about him at the lights of many hues reflected in the tinsel festooning the counters. The air seemed perfumed with a thousand smells, a unique mixture of everything that was on sale.

Santa's Grotto, Regina discovered, was in the toy department on the sixth floor, reached by a lift crammed with other small, damp, excited children escorted by resigned adults with unpleasantly dripping umbrellas.

Around the grotto bedlam reigned. Despite her affection for her nephew, Regina was unused to children in large numbers, and she winced at the sheer volumn of noise. Her admiration went out to the devoted helpers, elderly women dressed in little unbecoming as elves, whose job it was to shepherd youngsters of all ages past the upholstered throne where the store's Father Christmas sat in state, surrounded by colorfully wrapped parcels.

He was a very splendid Father Christmas. No tacky old costume here, looking as if had been worn by centuries of Santas. In fact, it looked as if no expense had been spared to make this one of the most attractive grottoes she had ever seen.

But as she and Brett joined the queue it suddenly struck Regina that the hubbub was not a happy one. Several small children who had already visited Santa were crying loudly, some were screaming with temper. A curly haired little girl who looked as though ordinarily butter wouldn't melt in her mouth was in mid-tantrum, lying on the floor and drumming her heels. Mothers and grandparents were gathered in angry conclave, watching curiously by those whose children had not yet reached the Father Christmas could be seen mopping his brow and one of the elves was wringing despairing hands while the others stood helplessly by.

"There seems to be some problem." Regina suggested to an elderly woman in front of her.

"Problem!" the woman grumbled. "More like total disaster. Do you know we have been waiting in this queue for half an hour now and they still haven't sorted it out. If it wasn't for her," she indicated the small girl whose hand she held. "I would give up as a bad job and go home."

"What's wrong exactly?" Regina asked.

"A mix up in the parcels. Boys are getting things like dolls and hair slides in their parcels and the girls are getting train sets or footballs. Someone must have wrapped them in the wrong colored paper." the woman explained.

"And what is being done to fix this?" Regina asked as she looked around.

"Not a lot. The staff seems to be in a complete panic. They are only part-timers, of course, pensioners taken on just for the season." the woman said with a huff.

"It's probably not their fault then," Regina said. "Management should be sorting it out."

The woman nodded. "That's what I thought. But no one wants to lose their place in the queue to go and tell them."

"Well, somebody's got to do something," Regina decided. And since no one else seemed inclined to take positive steps it had better be her.

She was always swift to sum up situations and decide on a course of action. Carrying Brett in her arms, she strode towards the dais. She set the child down by the plush throne, then picked up a toy trumpet discarded by some disappointed child. Infant lungs might not have achieved such spectacular effect, but Regina managed to produce a long loud blast.

There was a surprised silence into which Regina announced, "If you'll all keep calm for a minute, I'll get the management to sort this out."

Unfortunately this announcement did not have the desired effect. At once the adults surged towards her each one bent on making his or her grievances known to the self-appointed advocate. To make things worse, Father Christmas and his attendants, misunderstanding the purpose of the mass advance, cravenly slipped away, leaving Regina in sole possession of the dais and an enterprising Regina in possession of the vain Regina raised her hands pleading for silence, but no one would cede the floor to his or her neighbor.

"Quiet!" the stentorian bellow achieved the impossible, and one of the churning mob turned to seek the source of this impressive noise.

A man stood in the entrance of the toy department, and having secured their attention he advanced through the crowd, head and shoulders above most of them. No pocket Venus herself, Regina decided that he was certainly taller than average, a real hunk of a man. But it as not just his height which compelled her gaze. He was very handsome and very compelling, Regina guessed that he could draw women to him in droves. Dark blonde hair was on top of an almost sculptured face and the bluest eyes she had ever seen.

As he crossed the department his undoubtedly angry gaze never left Regina. She was very visible in her elevated position on the dais, and striking looking in her dark blue winter coat, her straight silky black hair spilling over her collar.

As he mounted the dais something absolute about his air of authority kept the hitherto vocal customers silent. But at first he did not address them. Instead he turned on Regina, his words for her only, his tone condemnatory.

"What the hell do you mean bu inciting this uproar? What kind of rabble rouser are you?" he asked.

Regina gasped indignantly. "I didn't start this," she began. "My nephew and I-"

"Oh no?" He chose to be sarcastic. "That, of course, is why you are standing up here conducting the proceedings."

"For your information," Regina began icily, "I was trying to help. I-"

"Help? In that case I'd hate to see you in an unhelpful mood!" With that he turned his back on her and addressed the still strangely quiet customers. "Now ladies and gentlemen, my name is Locksley, Robin Locksley. Would one of you, one," he emphasized, "kindly tell me what all this is about."

To Regina's chagrin, whereas all her efforts had achieved nothing, his words had the desired effect, and an elderly man appointed himself spokesperson, receiving a courteous hearing. The elderly man's words vindicated her behavior. Yet by not as much as a flicker of his gaze did this Robin Locksley acknowledge the fact. Regina seethed.

"Thank you. That's all quite clear now. As I told you, my name is Locksley and I'm managing director here. So I can assure you that this problem will speedily dealt with."

He sprang lithely down the dais and spoke rapidly into an inter-departmental telephone. It was impossible to hear what he was saying, and Regina didn't really care. She was too angry. With Brett she had rejoined the cluster of customers. If it hadn't been for disappointing her nephew she would have left Locksley Brothers' store immediately. How dared Robin Locksley blame her for his store's inefficiency?

"Right, ladies and gentlemen," he had their attention once more, "the staff dining room has been placed at your disposal. If you would all adjourn there, for ten minutes at the most, refreshments will be served on the house. By that time the grotto will have a fresh supply of correctly wrapped, suitable presents for your children. " His tone implied that, if such were not the case, heads would roll. "My assistant," he indicated a glamours young woman who had appeared withing seconds of his telephone call, "will show you the way."

As the now orderly crowd fell in behind the young woman, Regina found that she and Brett were being prevented from joining them.

"Not you," Robin Locksley said. "I'd like you and your nephew to accompany me to my office." His hand at her elbow was impersonal yet firm. But Regina found his touch oddly disconcerting. She resisted.

"Why?" she demanded. If he was still seeing her as a troublemaker...

To her surprise he smiled ruefully, "Because I seem to owe you an apology."

Regina stood her ground. "You do," she agreed, "but I don't want any preferential treatment. I'll join the other."

"No please," his grasp tightened, "you must allow me to make amends." He smiled, and the smile altered his face, banishing the grimness, making him even more attractive than she had at first supposed. "Otherwise how will I know I'm forgiven?"

Regina was not one to bear a grudge, except perhaps for Daniel's case. Now her earlier anger had evaporated, and this man really did seem genuinely apologetic. She shrugged. "Oh, very well," and allowed herself to be steered towards the lift.

His office was very much like the man, large and masculine. Robin Locksley motioned Regina and Brett towards a leather chesterfield then ignoring the massive executive desk, he seated himself in a matching leather armchair. No sooner were they seated than coffee was brought in.

"Orange juice for the little boy?" Robin Locksley asked. "I do believe you did say he is your nephew?"

Regina nodded. "There is really no need for all this," she said. "I-"

He held up one hand. "But I think there is. In the heat of the moment I did you an injustice. But you must admit," he smiled as he passed her cup, inviting her to share the joke, "to anyone coming suddenly upon the scene, hearing all that noise, seeing your lofty position, it did look-"

"As though I was...what was the term you used? Oh yes, a rabble rouser." Regina said feelingly. She might forgive, but it was an insult she was not likely to forget in a hurry.

"Was that what I said? Again, I can only apologize. As I said, in the heat of the moment..." he shrugged, then reached into the inside pocket of his impeccable cut jacket and pulled out a notebook. "And now," briskly, "to business. Your name and address, please."

Regina stared at him, "What on earth would you want that for?"

"Standard procedure. All those customers inconvenienced by this afternoon's incident will receive an official letter of apology." he answered.

"There is no need for you to write me," she told him. "You've already apologized."

"I've given you my personal verbal apology, yes but we at Locksley Brothers believe in doing things properly. So, your name?" He waited, lifting an eyebrow.

"Regina. Regina Mills. And this is Brett."

"Regina," he repeated as he wrote it down. He seemed to linger over it, and she rather liked the way he said it, his deep voice with an accent to it seemed to appreciate her name as though he found the name to his taste. "An unusual name. But then I suspect you're an unusual woman?" His eyes quizzed her.

Regina stiffened. She was familiar with that kind of approach, one she always firmly crushed. "I don't think so," she said coolly.

She gave him Zelena's address as she knew that large stores sometimes accompanied their apologies to customers by goods or vouchers, and Zelena might as well have the benefit of them. And besides, living alone as she did, Regina rarely volunteered the address of her own flat.

"And now," he glanced at his watch, "I think order should have been restored in the toy department. Shall we?"

Robin took no chances, remaining on the dais to the side of the throng, very obviously on a watching brief as the long queue reformed around the grotto. Brett's turn came. He climbed on Santa's proffered knee and in a stage whisper listed most of the items Regina expected. But, as a fond and responsible aunt, she kept a careful mental note of a few things she and her sister had overlooked. It wrenched her heart when to his wants he added, "And I want my daddy to come back."

"And what would his auntie like for Christmas?" a deep voice enquired suddenly.

Startled, Regina realized that Robin Locksley had moved to the front edge of the dais and was talking to her. His unusal blue eyes had undergone yet another change, they were openly amused at her affronted reaction.

But instead of giving him the set-down another man might have received, she decided to ignore his question. Instead she held out her hand to Brett. "Come on, darling, you've had you turn. There are other boys and girls waiting."

But instead of encountering Brett's tiny paw she found her fingers taken in the warm clasp of a strong shapely hand. A strange sensation zipped through her, as her heart set up the most unexpected thudding, and she tried to retrieve her hand, the left one, and found her efforts resisted. Robin Locksley's thumb was inspecting with deceptive casualness the ring less state of her third finger.

She knew, from previous experience, exactly what that portended. Next he would be asking for a date. At the thought she was overtaken by a sudden feeling of breathlessness.

"Let go!" she whispered fiercely, and looked uncomfortably around her. "People are watching._ Children_ are watching," she added, hoping this would restore him to a sense of decorum.

Then to her relief Brett, clutching a large parcel, rejoined her, her hand was released and she hurried away, embarrassed and angry again, aware of the odd glances she was was receiving from other customers. What must they think of the preferential treatment she had received, first being taken into his private office and then this? Her hand still seemed to tingle from the contact with warm male fingers.

She was annoyed, but by the time the lift reached the ground floor she had regained her poise and her normal off-beat sense of humor had reasserted itself. After all, as she told her sister later, "It can't be many people who've had a pass made at them in Santa's Grotto!"

She might joke about it. But it was strange how the incident, one she normally have dismissed, stayed with her all that evening. All too frequently she found her thoughts invaded by the recollection of a pair of startling blue eyes. Almost she could still feel the touch of that strong warm hand, hear the sound of a deep voice with that accent of his.

Finally, irritated with herself for such uncharacteristic behavior, she made a determined effort to banish the memory, deliberately channeling that irritation towards Robin Locksley. He'd had no business taking advantage of the situation. And if she had been one of his own employees she would have complained about it.

The letter of apology came on Monday, formal, impeccably polite, obviously stereotyped, nothing in it to which anyone could take exception. And that was all. No personal touch. The letter had probably been sent out to all the complainants by his secretary. Regina was obscurely disappointed.

"Well, that's that," Regina said, handing the official notepaper to her sister. "The end of an episode, and," she made a joke about it. "no freebies."

Zelena looked at her curiously, but made no comment.

On Tuesday morning the flowers came, a ridiculously large bouquet of them, their warm exotic scent filling the room.

"Red roses!" Zelena was in awe. "At this time of year. They must have cost a fortune. Who on earth's your secret admirer? What does it say?" she asked eagerly as Regina retrieved the deckle-edged card which had slipped down among the stems.

"Just to reinforce my apology, and in the hope that we may become better acquainted." Oh!" As her heart skipped a beat Regina crushed the card in her hand.

"Robin Locksley?" Zelena asked.

"Yes," she replied as evenly as her shaken senses would allow. It was gratifying to think that he still remembered their encounter, but Regina could have done without this reminder of a man who had already done much to disrupt her serenity.

"I think it's very romantic," Zelena said. "You must have made a very strong impression on him."

"Oh, I did," Regina said coldly." He called me a rabble-rouser, remember?" she used humor to cover up just how much the flowers and the message had shaken her normal poise. "As for romantic..."

Zelena eyed her curiously. "Do you intend to go on warding off men's advances for ever?"

"This sort of advance, certainly from someone I don't know. And I know nothing about Robin Locksley. A man of his age, mid thirties, I'd say could be engaged, married even."

"Which is making you more cross?" Zelena asked shrewdly. "His attentions, or the fact that you don't know if he's free to pay them?"

Regina preferred not to examine that question. "I just don't like presumption from men I don't know."

Zelena was not satisfied with that excuse. "All the men you do know you treat the same way as you treat your women friends."

"Much the best way," Regina said briskly. "Good friends, no romantic nonsense, just mutual respect and consideration. We're all individuals, not looking to be paired off."

"Well," Zelena said. "I have a feeling you'll be getting to know Robin Locksley much better before long. " She indicated the flowers. "I bet he'll be following those up in person before long."

Inexplicable, Regina shivered. But, "He'd better not," she retorted. "We don't want him turning up on your doorstep."

"I wouldn't mind in the least," Zelena said. "Come on, Regina, just because one man turned out to be a rotter...Oh, that Daniel has a lot tot answer for! But don't let that incident ruin your whole life, making you afraid of falling in love again."

"I'm not afraid of anything," Regina denied, much too strenuously. "It's just that I don't want to be caged, possessed. Remember how possessive Mom was Dad? I don't want to loose my privacy, the control of my own life. I'm quite happy as I am, thank you."


End file.
